


About Phantom Pains of Dying

by Anarchy_and_Piglins



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Domestic Fluff, Found Family Dynamics, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Platonic Cuddling, Sad Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade Whump (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, other tags are added as chapters update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:48:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29950227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchy_and_Piglins/pseuds/Anarchy_and_Piglins
Summary: Technoblade never dies. That doesn't mean he won't have his fair share of close calls and sticky situations.(Requests welcome!)
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Ranboo & Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 140





	1. Creeper?! Aw shit-

**Author's Note:**

> Just a place to dump all my self-indulgent Techno!whump drabbles. Because I'm mean and sometimes I want to hurt my favorite character...

Technoblade was used to being more alert to his surroundings than this.

Looking back on it he didn't know how the creeper had slipped past his notice. He hated to admit it, but maybe he had been pushing it a little when he decided not to postpone mining until tomorrow, when he wouldn't be working on three hours of sleep and an entire day of running around chasing mobs. He had really wanted to finish this adit before the day ended though, and Ranboo had offered to come with him.

Why did Ranboo have to be with him?

The telltale hiss of the creeper tipped him off mere seconds before it would blow itself apart. Technoblade had always resented that instinct of theirs, backward as it was. It didn't make much sense – biologically speaking – for an entire species to develop an ability that was directly proportional to their continued survival. As soon as he became aware of the sound he was turning, taking in the sight before him instantly.

Ranboo hadn't heard it coming either, which made sense because he would obviously have said something otherwise. But that meant the creeper had managed to sneak up to them close enough to be an issue. And with no time to spare before it exploded, Techno didn't think even his reflexes would be sufficient to draw a sword and knock it back before it could.

He'd have to resort to the next best thing.

Grabbing Ranboo's wrist, he pulled hard enough for the taller hybrid to go sprawling across the cobblestone floor of the cave. Techno would probably have to apologize for the unprompted manhandling later, but his main concern was minimizing any damage to them _or_ their tunnel. The creeper let out a final, high-pitched whine and then the expected force of the explosion threw Technoblade back.

Speak about backward instincts.

He slammed into the wall with his shoulder first, then his head. Techno's ears were ringing horribly and what had once been the dull ache of sleep deprivation wasted no time blossoming into a full migraine because of the blow. Trying to push up on his elbows, the entire cave seemed to be tilted sideways.

Did the creeper's explosion damage something? Then he blinked and, no, it was really just his vision that was fucked.

Ranboo was speaking to him, and grabbing his shoulder, but Technoblade found himself unable to discern the words through the continued ringing. He stared blankly at Ranboo's lips as if that would somehow help him understand what the enderman hybrid was saying.

"Uh... what?" he asked eventually when the world had stopped spinning in circles. Eloquent as ever Technoblade, he thought to himself – but discarded it quickly. Chat was already having enough of an uproar at his expense. They were sure to have a field day with this blunder.

"You're bleeding," Ranboo said, worry and anxiousness in his voice, and his hands were hovering. Unsure of what to do to help.

"Am I?" Technoblade asked. As if to prove Ranboo's statement, he suddenly became aware of a warm, wet sensation dripping down the side of his face. Oh, definitely blood.

"Uh, what do we do? Should I get Phil? I should get Phil-" Ranboo was trying to get up but Techno grabbed his wrist.

"Don't get Phil!"

He pushed up to get on his feet, the ringing slowly fading away but leaving more pain in its wake. Nausea swept over him as he tried to get up, Technoblade ignored it. "Let's just get home, we're not too far out."

"If you're sure," Ranboo said, clearly hesitant about it.

"I am." Techno stumbled, unsteady on his feet, and he was secretly grateful for the fact that he was still holding onto Ranboo's wrist. Ranboo hunched down awkwardly to help support him. "And we don't tell Phil this is how it happened. We need to tell him I was hurt while doing something very cool."

Ranboo nodded covertly. "I'll think of something." Technoblade was satisfied with that answer.

If Phil knew he got snuck up on by a creeper he would never live it down.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techoblade returns to the cabin after the failed execution, to find a gremlin in his house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anon! Thank you so much!! ^^ I'm very soft for the sleepy boy's inc potential dynamics 
> 
> I call this "fuck canon, I want more comfort in my hurt/comfort"

Everything about getting home had passed in a haze.

Adrenaline had fueled Technoblade for the first part of the journey, the excess strength of it running in his veins as fluidly as blood did. Survival instincts took over from reason easily – the voices a coalescing chorus reminding him that _Technoblade never dies_ and they were right, he hadn't died. He had clutched the totem and when the anvil dropped it had caved his skull into pieces, moments before sewing it back together, spilling brain matter against the glass.

Fleeing had never felt so sickening, but the totem could only do so much and the more destructive the injury, the longer its effects would linger and Technoblade hadn't been in any state to find out what it left him capable of. As soon as he saw the shape of his cabin appearing through the trees, all that adrenaline seemed to seep out of him at once like water through his clutched fingers, running thin and draining fast. Pressing his heels into Carl's sides, he spurred the horse to hurry along. "Almost there," Technoblade told him, nudging one trembling hand through Carl's dark manes.

With the last energy that remained him, he stabled the horse properly, making sure it had water and feed and enough warmth to last the night. Tomorrow he would have to go about finding a proper place to hide him, but after this stunt, Technoblade was sure it would take a while for anybody to come find him. He had time.

Trudging the few dozen feet from the stable to his door felt akin to climbing a mountain, the effort it took him nothing short of Herculean. Technoblade glanced at Phil's house and idly hoped the other was staying safe. Pushing the door open with his shoulder, he had never been gladder to be inside, to be home.

Technoblade blinked, only to be face to face with a very disheveled Tommy standing in the middle of his living room.

The kid was frozen in mid-action, a teenager caught in the act of sneaking out of the house. For one fragile, short moment they simply stared at each other. A jumble of thoughts was prying for his attention in Techno's mind but the voices were louder still and all of it drowned out by how hopelessly tired he was. There were things he should say – so many of them. He hadn't seen Tommy since days after his exile, at Logstedshire. But when he could hardly focus on not collapsing on the spot, he wasn't prone to engage in any serious conversation.

He closed the door behind him.

Tommy's muscles remained taut as if he was expecting a sudden movement or bracing for an attack. His eyes were cautious as they trailed along Techno's form, taking in the sight before him. Finally, he broke the silence. "Wow, you look like shit."

And all at once, the tension was broken. Technoblade let out a sound that was partway chuckle and partway groan before shuffling over to the worn couch Phil had put against one wall. They barely ever used it, but it was the nearest piece of furniture for him to sink down into.

"Yeah, dying will do that to ya."

He couldn't tell what kind of emotion was crossing Tommy's face at his words and he wasn't even going to try to decipher it. Technoblade's skull felt like it was moments away from imploding, a constant hum of pain that intercut itself from time to time with a sharp throb whenever he moved or the light was too bright. The room span in dizzy circles. He closed his eyes instead, resting his head back on the seat and sighing.

Another moment passed and then he could tell Tommy was moving, trudging closer almost carefully – or as carefully as Tommy could get about anything. "What the fuck happened?"

"As I said, I died. Temporarily. I had a totem." Technoblade waved his hand, not up for much more explaining. Every second he could feel himself getting closer to passing out. "Your turn, tell me what you are doing living in my basement."

He could hear the way Tommy startled. Technoblade had figured it out the moment he had seen the teen standing there, angled in guilt and self-affront. It definitely explained the disappearing gapples. "I'm not living in your fucking basement!" Tommy defended himself and there was that nostalgic heat in his voice Technoblade could recognize from days passed. Almost like he had missed it. "I just needed a place to hide. Lay low, you know."

Technoblade laughed. "And you couldn't find any place better than underneath my floorboards, Tommy? That's sad."

The snark he expected in response never came. He peeled his eyes back open, watching Tommy just stand there, pale and frowny. There was something about that – something distant and painful. After everything that had happened, Technoblade had found peace knowing he still cared about his brother. He would never not care. That didn't mean he had to like it. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Tommy bit his lip, uncharacteristically quiet. "Nothing." The kid had never been a good liar.

Bending down to undo his laces, Technoblade could see him from the edge of his vision, nearly fidgeting on the spot. He unclasped his cape next, pushing it haphazardly over the edge of the couch without a care to where it fell. Every movement hurt and he coughed, feeling the blood in his throat. Lingering echoes of his death creeping up his lungs. Technoblade rubbed it off on his hand, smearing crimson on his skin. Immediately Tommy was there with a glass of water.

"Thanks." He took it and downed it in one go. Tommy was still watching him.

They'd have to talk about it in the morning, Techno realized with detached horror. The sun would rise and then they would have to deal with what this was – with Tommy running scared and Technoblade being too tired to think.

But they had already lost one brother and for now, all he wanted was to not dwell on losing another.

He stretched out on the couch, the pounding close to unbearable, and when Tommy brought him a blanket too - the shitty one he kept in the basement - Techno couldn't even thank him, just grunted his acquiescences as he took it and draped it across himself. Tommy hesitated a second longer, looking worn and aged, yet younger than Techno had known him in ages.

Back to being the child he was before this whole war started.

He only needed to lift the blanket a tad and then Tommy was crawling under it, curled up along his side, and it kind of hurt to be pressing his body into the back of the couch to accommodate two people but Technoblade had slept in way worse circumstances. Tommy's hand shifted to the front of his shirt, somewhere around where his heart would be beating slow but steady and grasped, face pressed into the crook of Techno's shoulder. It felt almost natural to drape his arm along Tommy's back like they did when they were kids and not half as broken.

"Did it hurt?" Tommy asked when Technoblade was already on the brink of sleep, barely present enough in mind to answer.

"Nah," he muttered. "Technoblade never dies." The voices cheered their agreement.

Tommy sighed, and before long they were both asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to request some Techno!pain feel free to do so. I love getting prompts <3
> 
> What I'll write:  
> \- Whump (both physical and emotional/psychological)  
> \- Hurt/comfort  
> \- Angst
> 
> What I don't write:  
> \- Ships  
> \- Major character death
> 
> [My tumblr](https://anarchy-and-piglins.tumblr.com)


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